Beat It...

Sometimes when people haven't blogged for a long time, they start off with "I'm sorry I haven't written for so long." I've done it in the past, but honestly, I resolve to not say that anymore because this is MY blog after all, and I'm the boss of it. So if you're offended...you can go peruse the blogs of other more faithful bloggers...It's 2011 and I'm taking charge. Or something.

But...you're online reading blogs right now...so you're probably either NOT busy or avoiding things you really NEED to do. Which makes me feel okay about what I'm about to write.

First. I grew up in a musical home. Well, let me rephrase that. I begged to take piano lessons, and then begged harder to stop taking them. I took voice lessons for a while and liked them for the most part but there were....complications which I shall not here explain. My mom had a very cool player that rotated and played about 300 CDs...and it was on most all the time (as I remember). I loved music from age 3 when I got my first fisher-price record player that played 4 primary-colored plastic "records." And I had one heckuva dance routine for Neil Diamond's "Heartlight" song not to mention my smooth moves for "Footloose." I was ahead of my time...sigh.

My friend Anita tells me when I sing to her every time she says a word that triggers a song (which is about 39 times a day, on average): "Julesy, the music is in you." And I smile and agree.

But today when I was running and singing along, I heard myself sing "shorty hot pocket...da da da da...it doesn't matter who's wrong or right" and then start to question the veracity (and possibility) of those lyrics. So I came home and googled the lyrics to "Beat It," by our dear Michael. Turns out...he's actually saying "showin' how funky strong is your fight, it doesn't matter who's wrong or right." I was close. Sorry Michael. (But seriously...showin' how funky strong is your fight??!?!" Really? That's not much more impressive than Shorty Hot Pocket, just sayin'...).

This isn't the first time the lyrics I sing are devastatingly different than what the artist intended. Like for instance:

"I've been through the desert on a horse with no MANE," is really "horse with no name," but honestly, both versions are just weird. (Imagine me as a 7-yr old wondering what I'd hold onto if there were no mane...because of course...a saddle and reigns were out of the question...in keeping true to the spirit of freedom the song portrays...).

And...

"she ain't heaven...she's my mother..." turns out to be "he ain't heavy, he's my brother." (Took a LOT of ridicule when my mom and the lady for whom I was baby-sitting that day (my dear Jan...still love you and if you still read this, I want your email address) tag-teamed teased me on that one). You both should be ashamed, I was just a kid. ;)

So...have spent much of today laughing about "shorty hot pocket." I am awesome. It's a fun time in my brain. Anita is right, the music is in me. Unfortunately, sometimes the lyrics are not...

Grateful for...Amazing Grace

This is one of my all-time favorite songs...

and hearing from a 7-year old...

kind of...amazing.

Grateful for...Emily

I stole this picture from Kim's blog...this is my darling niece Emily. I can't get enough of this cute picture and the fact that almost every picture I have of her looks like this...darling smile with one eye shut because it's....just...too...bright. Darling girl.

Trying...

Way too bright...

Aunt Jules gets smart...

Grateful for...Friends and Stuff

so. the thing is, sometimes life is just so good. a miracle didn't happen, i didn't win a bajillion dollars, i don't have a new boyfriend, i still do not run 7-minute miles, and i'm not yet at my goal weight...and my hair still sometimes decides to be curly when i've declared it a NOT curly day.


BUT...i do have amazing friends. like "too good to be true" friends. some i see often, some i see very rarely, but i am just lucky. i have friends who think deeply and laugh with me about "reeeee-diculous" happenings and friends whose darling babies call me "jew-ee blayo" or wink at me from their booster seats. (are you KIDDING ME...that was for sure a highlight of the year...darling blond big brother responding with a silent and oh-so-adorable wink and half-smile instead of a hello when i got in the car and said hi to him!). friends who live in utah and have darling children who sing "happy birthday dear jules" at everyone else's birthday party for months after jules' birthday passes.

i have a little sister whose cats "text" me on a regular basis and crack me up with their humor which is remarkably similar to that of their owner/mother, i have big sisters who teach me about hair, jewelry, shopping, boys and the importance of being grateful for the opportunity in my life at present to sleep (and go to the bathroom/read/shower/do anything without interruption from darling children) as much as i want. i have old friends that are so easy to be with and talk to, and new friends that i can't get enough of.

i have a job i really love. i live 2 blocks from sprouts where they sell the best apples (and produce in general) in the world. i own a bike and a car. i get to hike most every saturday all winter long. i have lunch every workday with a co-worker and friend that i adore...who keeps me sane, makes me laugh and is such an incredible sounding board for things both clinical and personal. i have 9 adorable nieces and nephews, including brand-new baby twin nephews and another new nephew...all of whom i'll get to meet in just a few weeks. i am friends with nutella. i have almost mastered consistency in tricking my dying toaster into actually toasting (not CHARRING) my bread...setting 2 and 3/4ths). my webelos are all on track, the church is still true, i survived teaching my isaiah lessons and i am sleeping in flannel sheets. life is good.

Grateful for...flannel sheets.

I am absolutely certain that flannel is the official textile of heaven. My mom teases me for sleeping in flannel sheets when I'm wearing flannel pants...she says "Do you get stuck in there?!?! It's like the old flannel boards for FHE from forever ago." It's a tricky thing...living in Arizona when I have such an affinity for flannel. But, dear reader, do not fret, I have figured out how to manage at least 6 months of flannel time here... AND the good news is that Utah for me is flannel YEAR-ROUND...especially because my parent's basement is about as cold as a cave...in Antarctica...which makes for great sleeping...cold, cold room...flannel sheets and tons of blankets... Best. Thing. Ever.

Grateful for...Health

Today after my run at the gym, I noticed that a firetruck with flashing lights had just pulled up. I wondered what had happened. As I made my way towards the dressing room, I saw a woman lying on the ground with three EMTs around her, beginning to work on her. She did not look conscious and someone standing near them was giving them information about what had happened.

I noticed that the lady was of about the same build and size that I once was and I wondered if this event would make her forever scared to come to the gym, with worry that this could happen again. Found myself praying that she'd be okay, that she'd be able to get help and grow stronger and healthier. And that she wouldn't be afraid to come back to the gym.

About 10 minutes before seeing her, I had been thinking "Man, I'm tired today...I really kind of wanted to get 7 or 8 miles in but 6 is gonna have to do today...geez...lame. So that means tomorrow I'll have to run another 4 or 5...and Friday I'll have to run 3 or 4...and how will that affect my hike Saturday?" I was annoyed at myself...and then things changed after seeing the woman laying on the floor at the gym...a woman who could very easily have been me a few years ago. Because for most of my life, running a mile seemed impossible...and running 6 on regular basis felt inconceivable.

Suddenly I became very aware of my gratitude for my health and the blessing of having a body that can do so many things. I remembered having attended a fireside where one of the contestants who had been on The Biggest Loser was a speaker...and he was telling about his experiences on the show. He spoke about how he related his exercise then to repentance...that it was so hard, so painful then...because in a way he was "repenting" for all that he had done to his body. Because the neglect had been so bad, the "fixing" was very hard. Interesting concept. Sometimes I have days where I feel like I'm on a "repentance run"...like for instance after Halloween when I'm realizing that eating enough fun-size "somethings"=a run that feels not "fun-sized."

So...bottom line. (Sher, you love it when I get to the bottom line, right?) While I have more work to do and want to continue to take good care of my body and treat it well, I am grateful for the health I have today. I'm grateful that hiking this year feels easier than last and that I feel more confident and excited to try bigger and harder things. I know that having a body is a gift....one that today, I feel especially grateful to have.

Grateful for...Megan and Rachelle.

This month I'm going to try to post more frequently...focusing on the things/people I'm grateful for. First...my roommates...Megan and Rachelle. Love them. Love that Rachelle talks to herself and that I've learned to distinguish the "I'm talking to you Jules" voice vs. the "to myself or to my sandwich" voice. Love that Megan teaches kindergarten and loves kids like crazy (you know you're with a teacher when your hike involves stopping to pick up and take home 30 rocks). Love that we are all independant and do our own thing but that when we're together we have so much fun. Love that Rachelle speaks Spanish and that Megan loves to hike. Love that their motto is "We Do Hard Things." Love that they love health and exercise but also can sit at the kitchen table and laugh while we share whatever treat one of us has acquired. Love that they both love me even though we've concluded that it is I who seems to have a problem slamming cupboard doors (especially if it is while they happen to both be sleeping)...good news, I am working on this-I'd say I'm 79% improved. Love that they are sisters but include me in what they do, including family parties, etc. Love that we "get" each other. Love that they don't judge me for having a perpetually cluttered bedroom...which I generally attribute (falsely) to its size (yes, it is exactly 10x10).

Love that when Megan asked if we could go take pictures at the new temple site I complained...asked to reschedule twice...and when we actually went and did it tonight, I acted about as difficult as I usually do (see below for photo evidence) when my mom attempts the "family picture" thing. (See Mom, don't feel bad, it's not just for you).As we were standing there in that dirt (and I was embarrassed at the traffic that I was SURE was wondering why all the mormons were lining up on a Sunday afternoon to take pictures of a dirt field, not unlike many other dirt fields in the city)...As we laughed and teased (okay, and had fun...) I was thinking "these two really are my "family" here and I love them..." and then I got a little sad realizing that I won't always be living with them.

So. I'm grateful for living with two sisters who feel like my sisters...grateful that our home is peaceful and that despite the less-than-ideal circumstances for us all...we are absolutely...a family.